My Germany
by Fuzzkittychick
Summary: "Please England I n-need your h-help, to get my Germany back, please this monster is not my Germany no matter what they say this isn't him. He would never do this to anyone!" Italy goes to the allies for help to save his beloved German, but will the cost of saving the blond nation be too high? Mentions of FrUk and RusAme.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, so this is my first Gerita short story thing. It'll only be like 2 or 4 chapters.**

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"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" France stirred at the angry Englishman's voice and glanced around at his surroundings. He was in his own bedroom and relatively clothed so the Englishman's anger was not directed at him or at least he hoped.

"Please England I n-need your h-help, to get my Germany back, please this monster is not my Germany no matter what they say this isn't him. He would never do this to anyone!" France shot up and ran-slash-stumbled out of his bedroom and down a lone cold hall that gave way into a living room, where he had heard the voices come from.

"I-Italy, is that you?" France was horrified to say the least by the shorter nations appearance. He was covered head to toe in blood, some his own but most is that of his fallen men. His blue uniform is ripped to shreds to reveal a wound covered torso, most of the bullet wounds were wrapped in dirtied medical gaze, while others have scared over or have been left open. His hands are cut and chapped. His face beaten by what looked to be the butt of a gun leaving cuts, a black eye, and a broken nose in it's wake. His eyes though were the hardest to look at, they were dark and cold. Soulless, they were the eyes of a man who had seen hell and lost all hope.

"Please," his voice is thick with pain and sorrow as he pleads. "please save my Germany."

"Why," England snapped at the kneeling man, pulling out his gun and pressing it to the nation's forehead. "why should we help scum like you." He clicked the safety off his handgun and presses it harder against Italy's forehead. America watches with frightened eyes, fully expecting Italy to start crying and begging of his life. But he doesn't.

"I thought Italy was a coward." America voices, slightly confused. Italy let out a humorless chuckle.

"I am no coward, America. But when you get to my age, and you've seen as many wars and fallen empires as I have no longer have the luxury of fear or pain. You've just accepted that this is the way things are. You embrace death and hate with open arms. When you get to my age you will hate guns too, for I have lost more friends and lovers to guns then I have to time itself." He turns his eyes back to England. "Go ahead England shoot me, it won't get you very far."

"I'll say it again why should we help you?" Italy sighed and hung his head.

"If you help me save my Germany I will surrender and I will get the Germans to lay down their arms as well. God knows they're just as tired of this damn war as all of us." Italy's voice cracked as tears threatened to spill over his cheeks. "Please just help me save him." England lowered his gun.

"Fine, where is he?"

"Auswitch." Italy choked out looking down in shame, it was his fault he was there. The room goes silent, the allies looked saddened and confused. They all know the horrors of the war and the death camp, where the innocent were sent to die, but why would a notion be there? The peoples own nation be locked up in the worst of those factories of death?

"Why is Germany there?"France asked, crouching down next to the broken Italian.

"I was careless and they took him. It should've been me, I should've been the one they took in the middle of the night, while walking my god damn dogs! Not him!" Italy was in hysterics as he clung to France and sobbed into his chest. "Please help me save him I'm not strong enough to do it myself any more!" He pulls himself closer to France, to muffle his cries.

"I couldn't stop them, they took him, Germany the man I love more than anything else in the world. Help me save him and I'll surrender, please just save him. My beloved Germany." Italy's broken cries filled the uneasy silence in the room as the broken man they came from clung to France like a drowning man. France patted his head and rocked him slowly back and forth and sings.

"The blue sky can fall in on us.

And the earth can also crumble.

It matters little to me if you love me.

I don't give a damn about the whole world.

As long as love overwhelms my mornings.

As long as my body trembles under your hands.

Problems matter little to me.

My love, because you love me," (1)

"France we need to talk." England's voice cut through his sad sweet melody, France smiled bitterly but nodded and stood and followed the others out of the room.

"We should help him." France spoke as the door closed, England frowned.

"No, he is the enemy we can not help him."

"Why the hell not Iggy?" America asked, glaring at England.

"Well because- oh screw it I know you two will help him with or without us. So might as well keep you out of trouble." England scowled as he left the room to tell Italy their decision.

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**Please Review- Kitty**

1-Édith Piaf:Hymne À L'amour


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi, it's Kitty sorry of this chapters lateness, one more chapter too go. The translations are at the bottom if they are wrong please tell me! And I have no idea how the allies took any of the death camps. And thank you too..**

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They were about a mile away from the camp, which held the Germanic nation, when Italy

stopped cold in his tracks.

"This place used to be so beautiful." He muttered quietly to himself.

"What was that, Italy?" America asked, as he survived the grey landscape.

"I used to love this place." He waves his hand towards the baren landscape around them. "We would come here all the time after World War one (1). We would sit under a big old oak tree, it used to be right over there." He pointed too a large weather worn stump, that once've been a mighty tree. "And there were wild flowers, thousands upon thousands of wild flowers, as far as the eye could see. And there was even a small stream that used to be home to the most beautiful water lilies."

He sniffed and tightly closed his eyes as he tried in vain to stop the on slot of tear. Memories of a younger Germany bombarded his mind, as tears escaped his shut eyes.

"I will find you il mio amore (2)." He muttered as he started to move forward again. They may have had only a mile to go but Italy had to cross centuries of broken men, his men, Germany's men, America's men, England, France's,China's,Russia's, and Japan's broken bloody soldiers and civilians filled his mind. He had done this,he had let it go this far. He had let Germany go this far.

"Italie" Italy turned towards the French man. "We're here."

"N-no! Non possiamo essere qui I-io non posso,! (3)" Italy screamed out in fear.

"Italy, calm the hell down!" America grabbed the older nations shoulder and shook him violently. "None of've us are ready for what's in there!" Calmly he added. "So please try to stay calm." Italy nodded mutely. "Good, now let's go."

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"WIR angegriffen! (4)" A german soldier screamed as bullets flew by.

"Commander Alexander! We're out numbered by the allies! What should we do?" A young solder asked as he reloaded his revolver.

"Keep fighting you cowards!" A angry german voice shouted at some of the retreating officers. "Since when did our men take lessons from the Italians? (NO OFFENSE IS MENT BY THIS STATEMENT!) He muttered to himself as several of his men slipped under the fences.

"Sir" A young man cried.

"Yes, corporal."

"Italien is here." The corporal shouted over the cries off the battle.

"Kill he before he gets to Germany!" Commander Alexander shouted at the frightened man.

"Yes sir!" The man grabbed his gun as he want off in the direction that he saw Italy go. His only thought as he followed the nation was 'How can you kill a Nation?'

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"Germany! Germany, please answer me!" Italy screamed into the cold night air, his mind racing. Where was his Germany? Had he come to late to save him?

"Italien? Ist, dass Sie meine Italien?" A weak German voice called out from one of the barns.

"Germany! Germany, where are you!" Italy shouted as the entered the bran from witch the voice came from.

"Look down, mein geliebter." Italy looked down on to one of the wooden planks the prisoners had been give as beds. In the pale moon light, that seeped in through the rags covering the one window Italy saw him, he closed his eyes and muttered a quick prayer, in hopes that the bag of grey skin and bones in front of him was not the same strong German lover, that used to save him.

"G-ger-many? My Germany what have they done to you?" Italy sodded through his tears, as he fell to his knees next to the once strong nations. "Io li ucciderà, io ucciderò tutti." He muttered darkly, as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Ger-GERMANY! GERMANY OPEN YOUR EYES! Please Germany open your eyes!" Italy screamed when he saw the Germanic Nation's eyes flutter closed.

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**Please Review- Kitty**

1. My own head cannon that Italy and Germany have been together since WW1

2. il mio amore-my love (Italian)

3. essere qui I-io non posso,!- We can't be here I-I can't-! (Italian)

4. WIR angegriffen!- WE'RE BEING ATTACKED! (German)

5. Ist, dass Sie meine italien?- Is that you my italy? (German)

6. mein geliebter- my beloved (German)

7. Io li ucciderà, io ucciderò tutti.- I will kill them, I will kill them all. (Italian)


	3. Chapter 3

**Last chapter! So a big thank you to everyone who review, followed and added this story to their favs~! **

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The hospital was cold and cramped with wounded and dead, with broken nurses writing letters to the loved ones of the lost, telling them of their son's cruel demise, and with doctors who now drink to forget the the blood soaked shells of once proud men that haunt their shattered minds. And in the middle of it, in a darkened corner Italy sits by the side of a broken Germany.

"I wish I could've saved you earlier germany. But I just wasn't strong enough, please forgive me, I've failed you again."

"You didn't fail him,Italy." America'a voice soothed from the doorway of the small cramped room. "Hell you never left his side, and when you did it was to save him. That's a hell of a lot more then I've done." He sighs shifting his weight as he stares down at the small Italian, worried how he might react to the "enemy's" option on any matter concerning his loved one.

"I guess you're right...I tried and I never left him. No matter what terrible things he did." Italy looked down at the blond lying motionless in the small cot. it haunted him that as he spoke to America Berlin was being divided, Germany's heart was being cut up and given away. "Please be careful with his heart America."

"Of course, goodnight Italy." Italy watched the other nation go.

"Goodbye America, take care." Italy murmured to himself as he watched the lights in the hall flicker.

"I-Italy?" Italy's eyes widened at the weak voice.

"Germany!' He cried joyfully at the weak nation. His dull blue eyes stared up at the happy Italian. "You don't know how good it is to see you!"

"Oh I think I know." Germany chuckled, as he tried and failed to pull the clingy Italian man off. "I'm sorry Italy." Italy's grip loosened his mind raced to comprehend why Germany would think it was his fault.

"Germany did nothing wrong."

"I killed people, I murdered innocent people! I-I am a monster." Italy sighed as he rubbed his temples.

"You never killed anyone your people did, you should not hold the blame for the crimes of those blinded by power. You didn't stop it in the begging but you fought once you released how far it had gotten." Italy replied, keeping a stern face.

"Since when did you become so brave?"

"I will always be brave when my Germany needs it."

"Your Germany?"

"Yes, you are my Germany." He muttered leaning in towards the blond.

"I think I like being your Germany." Germany muttered closing the distance between their lips. It was a sweet and passionate kiss.

'_You will always be my Germany.' _Italythought to himself as he wrapped his arms around Germany's neck.

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It has been a pleasure. Please review

ps I will edit this someday...


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